Chapter 3 - The Secret Inside My Father's Office
The office door was open.
That was impossible.
My father never left it open.
Not when he was working.
Not when he was away.
That room had always been the one place in the house where nobody entered without permission.
When I was younger, I used to joke that he protected his office more than he protected his own bedroom.
He always laughed.
"Some things are better kept private, Daniel."
I never thought those words would come back to haunt me.
I stood at the top of the stairs, staring down at the open door.
Claire was still behind me.
She looked terrified.
"Who is inside?" I asked.
She didn't answer.
That silence was enough.
I walked down slowly.
Every step felt heavier.
My mind was racing.
The photo.
My mother's letter.
The message.
Claire's confession.
Everything was connected.
But I still didn't know how.
When I reached the office door, I stopped.
The room was dark.
The only light came from the desk lamp.
I could see papers scattered everywhere.
Drawers were open.
Books had been pulled from shelves.
Someone had been searching through my father's things.
I looked back at Claire.
"Did you do this?"
Her eyes widened.
"No."
"Then who did?"
She shook her head.
"I don't know."
I wanted to believe her.
But after everything I had discovered, trust was no longer something I could give easily.
I stepped inside.
The smell of my father's cologne filled the room.
It made my stomach turn.
Because only hours ago, I thought this room belonged to a man I admired.
Now it felt like a place where every lie had been hidden.
I walked toward the desk.
There were documents everywhere.
Business contracts.
Old photographs.
Bank statements.
Then I saw something strange.
A small wooden box.
It was sitting behind a row of books.
I had never seen it before.
I reached for it.
"Daniel, don't."
I stopped.
Claire's voice was shaking.
I turned around.
"Why?"
She looked at the box.
"Because some things change everything."
I stared at her.
"You already changed everything."
She lowered her eyes.
"I know."
I opened the box.
Inside was a stack of old letters.
All of them had my name written on the front.
My hands went cold.
They weren't addressed to my father.
They weren't addressed to Claire.
They were addressed to me.
The first envelope had a date.
Eight years ago.
The same year the photo was taken.
I opened it.
The handwriting was familiar.
My mother's handwriting.
"Daniel,
If you are reading this, then I was right to be afraid."
I stopped.
My mother.
Again.
Another secret.
Another warning.
I continued reading.
"Your father will tell you he did everything for your happiness. Do not believe him."
My breathing became heavier.
"Claire knows the truth. She was supposed to tell you before your wedding day."
I looked up at her.
Claire was crying.
"You knew about these letters?"
She didn't answer.
"Claire."
She closed her eyes.
"Yes."
The room became silent.
"You knew my mother wrote these?"
"Yes."
"And you still married me?"
Her tears fell.
"I tried to leave."
I laughed bitterly.
"When?"
"Before the wedding."
"Then why didn't you?"
She looked toward the door.
"Because your father found me."
Those words made me freeze.
"What does that mean?"
Claire stepped closer.
"Your father threatened me."
I stared at her.
"My father?"
She nodded.
"He told me if I walked away, you would never know the truth about your mother."
My heart stopped.
"My mother?"
Claire looked at the letters.
"Your mother didn't die because of an accident."
The room suddenly felt smaller.
"What are you saying?"
Before she could answer, footsteps echoed outside.
Someone was coming.
Claire immediately grabbed my arm.
"We can't talk here."
I looked toward the hallway.
"Who is that?"
Her face turned pale.
"Your father."
The office door moved.
But it wasn't my father.
It was locked.
From the outside.
Someone had locked us inside.
I pulled the handle.
Nothing.
"Daniel."
Claire whispered my name.
I turned toward her.
She was looking at the wooden box.
Not at me.
Not at the door.
At something inside.
"What?"
She slowly pointed.
There was a hidden compartment under the letters.
I hadn't noticed it before.
My hands shook as I opened it.
Inside was a small flash drive.
And a photograph.
I picked up the photograph.
It was old.
The quality was faded.
But I recognized everyone.
My mother.
My father.
Claire.
And someone else.
A man standing behind them.
A man I had never seen before.
On the back of the photograph were five words.
"Your father knows who killed her."
I looked at Claire.
She covered her mouth.
"Daniel..."
"What?"
She looked at the photo again.
Then at me.
"That man..."
"Who is he?"
She didn't answer.
Her eyes filled with fear.
Because she knew him.
The lights suddenly went out.
The office became completely dark.
Then my phone screen lit up.
One new message.
Unknown number.
A single sentence.
"Don't let Claire tell you what happened that night."
I stared at the message.
Then I heard a voice from the other side of the door.
A voice I recognized.
My father's voice.
"Daniel..."
A pause.
May you like
Then he whispered:
"Open the door. You need to see what Claire did to your mother."
